


Escalation

by Schalakitty, wickedorin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Based on Episode Duscae, Frottage, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schalakitty/pseuds/Schalakitty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The natural evolution of Gladiolus and Prompto wrestling in a tent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escalation

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Episode Duscae Ver 2.0, for adding in all the extra camp interactions and leading us to joke about shipping these two. And then _actually_ shipping them. What started as a "practice run" to get a handle writing these losers evolved into this fic and we are in so deep. So very deep. 
> 
> Prompto is written by Orin and Gladiolus is written by Schala. Everything is Square-Enix's including the holes where our hearts once were.

Prompto wondered, not for the first time, just why the hell it seemed like he was the only one getting pebbles in his shoes. Okay, maybe it had to do with sliding around trying to get a good shot, but he wore boots, and that still didn't explain all the _how_. Sliding off his left boot first, he gave it a good shake and got just a little bit of sand. Well, good to know. The right boot finally produced a deceptively tiny pebble, picked up and inspected with a frown. It was a moment of mischief as he glanced at Gladiolus, not paying any attention to him, that drove him to setting the pebble on the tent floor... and flicking it toward the body guard.

He had been making notes on their map, noting where different monsters tended to gather. Useful for both avoiding the packs or for gathering supplies as required. At least he _had_ been making notes until he felt the pebble hit his arm, right along the tip of a tattooed feather. "Seriously? Shooting practice in the tent?" He grumbled, glancing back over his shoulder at the blond. "Not very mature of you, Prompto."

"I'm totally just acting my age, right?" He was also totally aware that what he'd said was neither an argument nor a defense, but it was the truth! Enough. Probably. Since he was still getting that look, he attempted to smile pleasantly until the big guy turned back to what he was doing. Prompto considered it luck that he'd actually seen exactly where that pebble had landed... and managed to reach for it without too much trouble. Well now. He probably should just toss it out of the tent, avoid temptation. What he actually did, though, was try to line up his next shot so that it had a good chance of hitting Gladiolus' back, because when he leaned over in just the right way, the tattoo stood out like a perfect target...

He heard the snap and felt the sting against his lower back and That. Was. _It._ With a sharp grunt, he whipped around to grab Prompto by the arm and hold him fast in place. "Alright, play time is over," he growled before dragging the gunner into one of their patented impromptu wrestling matches. The boy would have to learn somehow.  
  
The blond did the only totally adult, dignified thing that he could the moment he saw the body guard reach for him: he let out a sharp, high-pitched squawk. Of course he realized he was kind of digging himself a hole there, sure, but... well, okay, that's where the thinking kind of stopped. He couldn't possibly use strength against the tank of a man, but speed was another thing. Shame that the whole strength thing was kind of winning out. "Would you believe I didn't mean it?" He wheezed, trying to turn over just to give himself a chance at running the hell out of the tent.  
  
"Don't start fights unless you can finish 'em," Gladiolus barked before he caught the blond in a rough bear hug. That took care of the arms - though Prompto continued to squirm in his hold - but the legs were another problem. He struggled to swing his leg around and pin him properly but the gunner would just not _stop moving._  
  
It was a talent of his. At least Prompto would have said so if he wasn't a little out of breath and already slightly preoccupied with making a little indignant squeak at nearly being pinned. Okay, fine, totally stupid tactics worked sometimes (at least they seemed to; he didn't really have the time to work out examples). Instead of trying to pull himself away, he used what little leverage he had left to push himself back.  
  
And the lucky son of a bitch pressed his tight ass right back into Gladiolus' crotch. All at once, the physical intimacy of their positions dawned on him as his hips automatically rolled forward. Well, at least Prompto had stopped moving as they both froze in place.  
  
Silence wasn't really his thing. Usually. It took a couple of seconds for him to speak that time, though. Mostly because his thoughts were fighting between _That was hot_ and _I might be in trouble_. "H-hey, y'okay there, Gladio?"  
  
Hissing out long and slow, he weighed his own options. They could take this in one of two very different directions and after a moment of contemplation, Gladiolus knew which one he preferred. He gave another press of his hips against Prompto's ass before asking directly, "I am, if you're okay with this." If not, he would pull back and hope everything wouldn't be too awkward between them.

The gunner kind of wondered if he should be panicking even as he made a quiet little sound that he just... didn't really know what was. Well, at least the wrestling match had ended in a draw, right? Sort of. Taking in a shaky breath, the laugh was more nervous than natural. "Not gonna lie, this is a little surprising. But I'm not really hating it." It was Gladiolus. The guy looked every bit a big brute, and sometimes he acted like it. Though, Prompto wasn't exactly afraid that he wouldn't take no for an answer. And, well, the answer was decidedly not no.

With a little snort, he loosened his grip but still kept his hold tight on Prompto's arms. "Don't let this go to your head now," he murmured against the blond's ear, the two of them close enough that the bass rumble of his voice could be _felt_ as well as heard. "But you're pretty hot for a blond runt."  
  
Oh fuck. That's all his mind was full of for a second or so there, never quite having heard that from Gladiolus' voice before. He sort of wanted to believe maybe there was a chance that the little whimper which escaped hadn't been heard, maybe the way his hips rolled was slight enough to ignore. Then all at once, Prompto decided to surrender. A little. He laughed, the sound noticeably breathless. "Was that a compliment, big guy? What've I got to do to hear more?" Not that he waited for an answer before very purposely pushing back against that much more obvious bulge. Well... he was getting himself into something, alright.  
  
He answered back with another roll of his hips to start, chuckling as he nuzzled right behind the blond's ear. Perhaps the gunner could put his rambunctious energy to use for something other than blazing fast headshots. "You're good at squirming, aren't you?" He asked, rough hands rubbing over Prompto's arms. "Put that skill to use and you just might get more."  
  
Well now that was definitely a moan, even if it was as quiet as he could manage. Giving a slightly lazy grin over his shoulder as he glanced back, he mock-complained, "So I gotta work for that too, huh?" Well, Gladiolus hadn't told him when to start, and that was just as good a time as any; the gunner made a bit more of an effort at grinding his ass against that "growing threat". The blond's little gasp was actually trying to hide a laugh at his own thoughts, for the most part.

He rolled forward into the next motion, pressing up hard against Prompto's tempting ass. "Gotta work if you want a reward," Gladiolus argued, one hand slipping away to find its way under his shirt, running over the blond's chest and stomach. Just a tease to start, but they would need to get those clothes off soon enough. "But keeping rubbing that sweet ass against me and I'll find a way to reward you."

Sometimes, it was just in Prompto's nature to over-think things. Luckily he was equally likely not to think at all, which seemed like a benefit at the moment. Between the promise, the touch and that voice, the curse just slipped right past his lips. "Fuck, Gladio..." Not that he was about to stop. Hell, everyone knew he'd work for the promise of rewards. But real rewards, not Ignis making sarcastic promises.  
  
His hand drifted to that belt, just resting there for the moment. Given the direction things were heading, best to ask first. "Better let me know now - do I have to be gentle or do you like it rough?" Not that he would deliberately harm the blond - just that he tended to fuck like he fought.  
  
There was a little choked sound there that was going to be an actual word, right up until the moment the gunner realized what he was being asked. "W-whoah." He felt the hesitation in that hand, though, could easily feel the slight tension in Gladiolus' body. "I just mean--" Cutting himself off with a laugh, he remembered to take a deep breath. It sounded more like a whimper than a moan, but there was an undeniable shiver when he actually answered. "Rough."  
  
It came as a surprise, but one hell of a good one. He pulled the blond in tighter with a pleased purr. Just to test, he leaned in to bite Prompto's ear before instructing, "Alright, if you need me to slow down, you say yellow. Say red and I'll stop."  
  
Well that just indicated a whole bunch of things Prompto had never really given serious thought to (in regards to Gladio, anyway), but he couldn't have said he was disappointed. He couldn't have said much of anything right then, still catching his breath from the bite; but he knew what was most important to express. "Yeah. Got it. Green like... _green_."  
  
"Exactly," he confirmed with a short laugh, moving to start working Prompto's clothes _off._ Way too many layers in his opinion. But - as he said - rewards required work. And stripping that vest and shirt away with quick calloused hands to reveal soft freckled skin was such a nice reward.

There was the quietest of mewls as those big hands explored, breath coming faster. For once, words were failing him, the gunner taking a moment to close his eyes and breathe, convince himself it was all really happening... and then using that moment of reassurance to reach back behind himself, doing what he could to get the body guard's belt at least unbuckled. Unsurprisingly not the easiest task.

With a snort, he gave a quick nip to Prompto's shoulder before suggesting, "Why don't you take care of yourself, kid? I can handle zipping up the tent and getting out of my pants." It only took one roll of his shoulders to shrug his vest off - one of many benefits of going shirtless.

"Right." At least one of them felt capable in that moment. Okay, so he supposed he was kind of maybe really excited and all of the blood flow that usually went to his brain was going somewhere else. None of that was really conscious thought, Prompto just trying his best to get his belt unbuckled, pants open and tugged down-- He paused dead still for a moment when he looked at Gladiolus, cheeks reddening slightly. Yeah, the guy went shirtless a lot, but the opportunity to really look hadn't presented itself before. It was when his stillness and stare were noticed that he finally continued where he left off with a slightly embarrassed, "What, I can't look?"

"More than look," he promised while working his way out of his pants. He took his time then, well aware that Prompto was watching. Savoring those bright blue eyes roving all over him, Gladiolus slowed down just to give the blond quite the show. And he did have so much to show off.  
  
Swallowing, he wondered if he was maybe just a little in over his head. That was just kind of where he existed, as far as he was concerned, eyes taking their time in roaming over a clearly well-sculpted body. Like, way more than he'd been prepared for. Everywhere. Alright, one place in particular. He'd said rough, right? Yeah, he was pretty sure he still wanted that. Chuckling, Prompto managed to point out, "Totally unfair genetic differences, okay?" It wasn't that he was embarrassed about his own body (or his own cock, thank you very much), but it was different. Very different.

He had every right to be proud of his body, born and bred to fight and protect. Drawing Prompto in close again, he pressed a little tighter now, letting his fingers sink in slightly. "Maybe," he murmured, one hand rubbing hard along the blond's inner thigh. "But I told you - you're pretty hot yourself." An addictive mix of soft and firm and so much smooth skin just waiting to be marked.  
  
The blond was a fighter in his own right, even if he did still need some practice. He hadn't quite expected all the reassurance, the way Gladio's familiar certainty only made him more confident. It probably just caused his moan to be a little louder than it would have been otherwise, legs spreading open just a bit thoughtlessly. "S'long as I'm hot enough for you, right?" That laugh was mostly breath, panting.  
  
Done waiting around, Gladiolus reached around to slide his hands under the blond's ass and pull him up onto his thigh. And his hands just stayed there, fingers digging in as he massaged the firm curves. "I'd say so," he affirmed, right before dipping his head down to leave a hickey right on Prompto's shoulder. Well, at least he might be able to cover that one up.  
  
There was a decidedly unmanly squeak at the grasp and the movement; which was followed first by a quiet moan at the feeling of his cock resting against the older man's thigh, then became far louder. Prompto had never been at a loss for words so much in such a short period of time, hips rolling, hands grasping Gladiolus' arms tightly. Back arched, head rolling back, there was no attempt to stifle the sound of sheer want.  
  
"See, that's _hot_ ," he praised between nips and nibbles to Prompto's shoulder. He wanted to hear more of those little gasps and moans, to watch the blond shake and shiver with need. And if he really did want it rough, best to make them both happy with a quick slap across his ass.  
  
"Aren't you, usually telling me, to be quiet?" He got out between gasps--then that slap happened, the gunner's ability to speak completely shutting down for a moment. The answering moan was deep and rough, hips jutting forward hard and fast with a broken little gasp afterward, fingernails unintentionally digging into the body guard's biceps. Apologies for that were kind of the furthest thing from his mind.  
  
Exactly the reaction he wanted and certainly warranted another slap to the other side. "Yah, but you're not usually letting out little gasps and moans that go straight to my cock," he argued, rubbing over where he had spanked. He hadn't hit hard enough for any lasting marks but the skin was slightly pink and warm under his hand, just the way he liked.  
  
There was something about that moment of almost-gentleness, big hands stroking and a low, purring growl in the other man's voice which did more than just encourage more of those sounds. " _Fuck_ , Gladio--" He couldn't compete. He didn't want to compete, Prompto just-- "Seriously. _Seriously._ " Well, hell, he knew what he was asking for. He just kinda hoped he was communicating that because "more" and "now" and "do we actually have any lube, because I'm not sure if Ignis keeps any with the first aid kit" were far beyond his suddenly limited vocabulary.  
  
The swordsman had other - very specific - ideas though and the strength to follow through. Arm winding around Prompto's back for support, he pressed him down against the tent floor in one smooth motion. "Hands up," Gladiolus ordered even as he was already slotting into position between the blond's wide open legs.  
  
The word "what" was more of a passing breath than something given voice, but there wasn't a damn thing the blond wanted to do to stop what was happening. "Hey, Gladio, that's cruel." He accused with a pout... which didn't particularly work, seeing as how Prompto was panting, wrapping his legs around that muscular waist, and then finally lifting his hands over his head.

Chuckling low and deep, he took both wrists in hand as he just kept Prompto pinned. He sacrificed a moment to savoring - flushed cheeks, ruffled hair, that perfect 'fuck me please' haze over blue eyes, and the clear mark he'd left on pale skin. Cocks sliding together with the first smooth roll of his hips, he then bucked into the next, driving the blond down hard against the tent floor.  
  
There'd been a word there, somewhere, aching to come out; something that was supposed to have been encouraging. The jumble of vowels which actually happened proved to be much more encouraging than words, the gunner's legs squeezing Gladiolus' sides. He doubted the big guy even felt it with all of the damn muscle, but that wasn't the point; the next moan pulled from him was loud and rough and almost strangled, trying to move his own hips and mostly failing.

His arm slid lower, holding right under the small of Prompto's back so he could pull him into every thrust and roll. In complete control, just how he liked it. Even with the gunner squirming underneath him, panting and cursing, Gladiolus set their pace, decided when he wanted a hard press of their cocks or a quicker thrust.  
  
He'd have complained, usually. Under any other circumstances. But that one, right then, trapped under the body of a man who absolutely knew everything he was capable of and making such perfect use of every movement, complaints were nowhere near his mind. That didn't mean that Prompto stopped trying to move, though, more on thoughtless instinct than anything else, moans and curses and pleas all running together, loudly; at least until he turned his head and left a bite on that shoulder.  
  
Growling, he answered back with a bite of his own, right next to the dark hickey he'd left earlier. His hips bucked harder and faster now, grinding down into Prompto and leaving his abs slick with streaked pre-cum. Gladiolus wanted him messy and breathless, sated and marked. And he wanted the pleasure of being the one to leave the blond completely _wrecked._  
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck; the word was the last coherent thing Prompto could hold onto, groaning loud and long at the bite. That was in the background, though, the pain so far beneath pleasure that it hardly existed. He wasn't aware of the panting, the mewls, the way he was still rhythmically squeezing Gladiolus' sides as he thrashed, need growing and intensifying. He could have come there, could have given in and finished it, but there was that last little bit of him that wasn't ready to surrender, wanted to fight, to make the body guard work for it even more.  
  
Slamming their hips together, he ground their cocks together in one last rush of fucking need. Distantly, Prompto's stamina impressed him, but he just wanted to come at this point, the other's own orgasm be damned. With one last grunt, he came hard all over the blond's cock, hips, and stomach, his arms giving out a moment later.  
  
The decision to hold out was more or less completely ripped away from him at that point, orgasm hitting with a broken moan and a few more weak attempts to move his hips. So, actually, the gunner had no idea who's managed to come first. It was probably together, at about the same time... but his first real thought through the haze of afterglow was that he was definitely telling anyone who asked that Gladio came first. Totally. Of course that wasn't a very important thought, especially not when he felt like what he imagined Noctis felt like on a normal basis when he was tired, only _really_ good. He didn't even bother to move, let alone try to get the big guy off of him.  
  
He didn't have to worry about that last one as Gladiolus slowly pulled back and away. Ignis kept some wet wipes in the tent for a variety of reasons and this seemed applicable. Though, Prompto probably needed two given the mess all over his stomach. But he took one swipe at the puddle of cum with his thumb just to taste before he cleaned up. "How you holding up, blondie?" He teased, voice slightly hoarse after everything.  
  
Not that the immediate answer was a word. It was barely a sound, bleary and sated, making some very weak attempt to stretch. Blinking a few times, there was a clear bit of wear in the gunner voice as well, finally answering, "Pr'ty good." Well, that was almost a sentence. Sitting up didn't exactly work on the first try, so staying there for another moment seemed like a decent idea. Though, gaze clearly a lot more coherently aware as he looked up at the body guard, he wondered out loud, "So, like. That was okay, yeah?"  
  
He tossed the wipes away before settling back down to pull Prompto close with a grin. "You did good, kid," he promised, tenderness sliding into his deep voice. Even if he was hard on the blond, it only came from a desire to make sure he was strong enough for the tough road ahead. Underneath it all, he wasn't really all that grizzled. "I wouldn't mind going another round with you sometime. Maybe turn that cute ass of yours pink, maybe take the time to fuck you properly. Whatever you want."  
  
Blue eyes went wide at the act of being held. Hell, he didn't mind in the least, it was just... kind of unexpected. Not that he wasn't going to take full advantage of it, shifting to partially drape himself over Gladiolus' chest. "Whatever I want? You serious?" His grin was still a little lopsided, tired but bright. "I don't know, I think you should at least buy me dinner before you fuck me. I mean, that's just manners." Unfortunately he was aware that he wasn't going to be able to avoid whatever reaction that might have invoked. Though he was becoming more and more aware of what sounded like... tapping? Something outside the tent?  
  
Gladiolus reacted instantly, hastily pulling on only his underwear before a sword materialized in his hand. It was smaller than his normal one, able to actually fit in the tent. Slowly, he unzipped the flap, ready to take on whatever had breached their camp ground. But once he got a good look at the intruder, he visibly relaxed. "Hey Prompto, one of your relatives?" He teased while pulling the flap down all the way and giving the blond a good look.  
  
Prompto followed the example; but only when it came to getting to his feet and materializing his gun. Hey, nudity was totally a great way to distract an enemy. Clearly puzzled at Gladio's question, he took a step forward--and the gun fell from his hand into sparks, then disappeared altogether. He looked like he was having the best surprise birthday party of his life, barely able to keep his voice down. "It's a chocobo! A wild chocobo found our tent! He wants to make friends! Can we keep him?" Despite his excited rambling, he was trying to approach the bird with slow careful steps, one hand out to show he was friendly. Or something like that, anyway.  
  
The chocobo let out a confused 'wark' but didn't back away when approached. Instead, it seemed friendly enough, not running away or even puffing out its feathers defensively. But maybe that was because it had knocked over one of Ignis' coolers to get at the vegetables inside, a very guilty-looking carrot stem sticking out from the side of its beak.

Following the gunner out of the tent, he tossed Prompto's underwear at him while chiding, "Don't get you hopes up - Iggy would have a conniption fit if we tried to stable it and a full on heart attack if we squeezed it into the Regalia."  
  
There was a sound that Prompto made as he ignored the underwear completely, something like a high-pitched elongated "E" that he was quite obviously trying to keep under control. He really didn't want to hear what Gladiolus had to say. "But, like... what if he's magic?" Okay, so that was one of those things he said that he actually realized was completely stupid the moment it left his mouth. Not that it stopped him. "What if we can teach him how to say 'Iggy'?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, he offered quite simply, "Get the chocobo to say 'Iggy' and I'll suck your cock."

Blinking at the strange – and in one case, naked - humans, the chocobo fluffed its impressive feathers and squawked, "Ig-kweh?"  
  
There was some silence after that, the two men looking at each other for several seconds. Prompto then pointed at the bird and asked, "So, like, now or I get a rain check?"


End file.
